


An Introduction

by canis_m



Category: Juuni Kokki | Twelve Kingdoms
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, Gen, Insert Fujiwara Keiji voice here, M/M, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22119739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canis_m/pseuds/canis_m
Summary: Hanrin and Enki visit Taiki at Hakkei Palace.  Includes minor spoilers forShirogane no Oka, Kuro no Tsuki.A gift fic for Caeslin, with thanks for the care package of treasures!
Relationships: Saku Gyousou/Taiki | Takasato Kaname
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41





	An Introduction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Caeslin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caeslin/gifts).



> _Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:_
> 
> \- T.S. Eliot

"I'm so pleased to meet you properly at last," said Hanrin, "and that things are going so well."

Taiki clasped palm over fist and bowed profoundly. "I'm grateful to Han Taiho for everything. More than I can say." He turned to Enki, who grinned pertly at Hanrin's side. Behind them, across the reception chamber, the three kings in formal dress stood conversing. "And to En Taiho."

"Please, call me Risetsu. Shall I call you Kouri?" 

Enki did a spit take, though tea had yet to be served. Hanrin looked at him askance. Taiki was grateful; it meant she hadn't seen him freeze, ears ringing as if struck, at the sound of that name in the wrong voice. A bright voice, cheerful and kindly. Irrefutably wrong. His heart pounded refusal. Even Asen had never—

"What? Isn't that his given name?"

"Just call him 'short stuff' like I do," Enki said quickly, flapping a hand.

"Excuse you, some of us have manners."

"Manners? You mean like waltzing into another kingdom and glomming onto something meant for personal use of the king?"

"I never—" She broke off, aghast, and turned to Taiki. "Is it?"

He had no words. He proffered another bow, this time with more helplessness than grace.

Hanrin clapped a hand to her mouth. "I beg your pardon, Taiki!" Her eyes flashed in Enki's general direction. "So kind of you to tell me."

"Oh, it's my fault? Listen, sister—"

Taiki glanced again across the room, over Enki and Hanrin's golden heads. The kings of En and Han were deep in discussion, if not testy debate; King Han looked ready to box King En’s ears with a folding fan. At that moment Gyousou's head turned. His gaze flickered to meet Taiki's, as if by prearrangement, inquiring but mainly warm. As though the sight of Taiki flanked by his brethren were a pleasurable one. 

Taiki lowered his eyes to his honored guests, and managed to smile almost serenely. "Shall I show you the garden? It's been fully restored."

*

That night, as they retired to the Inner Palace after the banquet's end, he confessed to the king what had happened. "I could’ve caused a diplomatic incident. I was this close to saying something rude."

"Such as?" Gyousou sounded amused.

Taiki affected his coldest look: chin lifted, eyes thinned. "'How dare you.'" He let the mask fall. "If it'd been someone else, I might have."

"She meant no harm."

"No, she was being friendly. She's a friendly person. I just never knew.” How strange it would feel. How like a transgression. He hunched a little and leaned into Gyousou’s arm.

The attendant took their cloaks when they arrived. Gyousou called for tea; they had drunk plenty of wine (and harder liquor, in the case of the kings) at the banquet. Then he toed off his shoes and stretched out on the divan, leaving enough space beside him to invite. 

"Shall I issue an edict," he asked, when Taiki settled into his designated place. "Declare it the Forbidden Name?"

Taiki blinked up into his teasing, then down at their legs, stretched parallel toward the foot of the couch. He curled his fingers into the drape of one vast sleeve.

"That might be extreme. But I might feel better if..."

"Hm?"

If the memory could be overwritten. The chill of offense erased by overriding warmth. "If I heard you say it." 

He had heard Gyousou say it at the banquet, more than once, as they were both well aware. Gyousou's smile only lengthened. He leaned in. His breath, and breath alone, touched the rim of Taiki's ear. 

"Kouri," he murmured, in just the voice Taiki knew he'd use. A perfect tremor purled through Taiki, deliciously deep. He couldn't blame the giddiness on spirits, even if he'd cared to. Gyousou's mouth skirted his earlobe, tracing its curve, and another tremor followed the first. "Better?" 

Taiki nodded. He clung to Gyousou’s sleeve, to his arm, to the spread of dark silk over his chest.

"Is once enough?" 

"No, more."

Gyousou obliged him, saying _Kouri, my Kouri,_ until Taiki's head swam, and his feet nearly squirmed in reflexive bliss. He melted to a happy puddle, only to bolt upright, flushed to the roots, when the attendant came back with the tea.

The litany resumed later, after the attendants were dismissed, when all the lamps but the small one in the bedchamber were dark. Some cajoling was needed; Taiki sensed Gyousou had harbored no serious intention of doing anything in bed but sleep while there were guests in the house. But he was open to persuasion. In the end Taiki had his way, and had his fill—at least for one night—of that name in his ear, of being entered by way of breath and beloved voice, over and over again. 

*

He slept soundly until dawn. In the morning he was to meet the other kirin in the gardens, at the restored pavilion. He arrived to find Enki there, perched on a railing, peering into the pond for a glimpse of languid koi in black and white.

The fish were gathering, _shiro utsuri_ and _shiro bekko_ alike, in hopes of being fed. At Taiki’s greeting Enki hopped down from his perch, then blinked at him and squinted, as if against a sudden dazzling glare.

“Aren’t you shiny.” The squint continued. “You look like you took a bath in...never mind.” 

When Taiki understood what he was seeing—what was visible, if only to a kirin’s eye—he halted in his tracks, too astonished to speak. He didn’t blush, but his mind churned. He hadn’t known—or had he? Had some secret beastly instinct moved him to expose himself, to put on a brazen display? 

Enki still eyed him, neither smiling nor frowning. “As your big brother, I reserve the right to get nosy. For a minute. Do I need to tell somebody off?”

Somebody being the king of Tai. Taiki drew breath and straightened. He shook his head, then marshaled his tongue to say clearly: “You don’t. Thank you.”

“Well, I figured. You don’t get an aura like that if—anyway.” With a shrug Enki turned back to the fish. “Sorry to pry.”

Taiki shuffled to stand by the railing next to him. “You’ve…” He hesitated, but he wanted to know—whether he was singular and perverse in this, too. The answer wouldn’t change his chosen course—he was Gyousou’s, not only in soul—but there was no one else he could ask. “You’ve seen it before?”

“Less often than you’d think. But yeah. It either goes really badly, or really well.”

Taiki puffed a laugh into the chill morning air, surprising himself. “I’m not worried.”

Enki huffed, too, and planted an elbow on the railing. “Last year I was worried. And the seven before that. Not anymore.” He turned his head. When Taiki followed his gaze, he saw Hanrin trotting up the path, bundled in a semblance of well-to-do street clothes, with a long scarf to cover her hair. “She’ll see it too,” warned Enki, and Taiki did flush then, ducking his chin. “Though she might not know what she’s seeing. She hasn’t been around as long as me.”

If Hanrin did know, she was too gracious to remark, except to say Taiki looked radiant this morning. “Are we still going down to Kouki? I dressed for it!”

Enki pulled out a scarf of his own and wrapped it leisurely around his head. A few spikes of golden blond escaped, until Hanrin fussed and tucked them away.

“If you’d still like to go,” said Taiki, hesitating. “It’s not...what you’d call thriving.”

“Perhaps not yet. Hadn’t you heard?” said Hanrin sweetly. “En was a barren wasteland when _they_ started.” She elbowed Enki.

“Hey!” Enki rubbed his arm, but for Taiki’s benefit he said, “It’s true. We were a mess. So keep your chin up.”

“Can we meet the black suugu? Rokuta did bother to tell me about _that.”_

Taiki gestured, open-handed, and they set out on the path. Along the way Hanrin looped her slender arm through his. In great earnest she said, “I’m sorry again about yesterday. I never meant to put you on the spot. It must be lovely, having a name of that kind. Perhaps I’ll ask my master to grant me one, too.” She dimpled up at Taiki. “You might start a fashion for it.”

“Oh boy,” muttered Enki.

“Don’t be jealous, Rokuta. What would one call it? A king’s-name?”

The Forbidden Name, thought Taiki, hearing Gyousou’s voice in his mind. But he smiled and shook his head. “I’ll leave that to Han Taiho.”

“I told you, it’s Risetsu! You’re not going to be difficult, are you? Stiff as a board, like Keiki? Please don’t.”

Taiki pondered for a moment. “Risetsu-san,” he said at last, testing, and Hanrin clapped her hands in delight.


End file.
